


Freshly Cleared Browsing History

by Garden_Beast



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M, Sex positive fic, Sex work fic, There is actually a plot, This is a purely self-indulgent work, accountant!Yuuri, pornstar AU, pornstar!Victor, size queen! Yuuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-10-14 17:30:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10541190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garden_Beast/pseuds/Garden_Beast
Summary: In retrospect, Yuuri hadn't really thought that clicking the wrong video on a porn site would change his life. Then again, Victor Nikiforov always had a way of surprising him.





	1. Prologue

Yuuri wished his gay awakening was some sort of romantic experience in his adolescence: dropping a pencil and having a boy he liked pick it up, kissing someone he liked in the rain. But no, he had to be eighteen and alone on a Saturday night, clicking on the wrong ‘recommended video’ on Chrome Incognito. He assumed the silver-haired woman smiling up at a camera with come on her face was just flat chested.

Upon clicking it, well. She wasn’t a woman, that much was certain. Even though the footage was grainy, looking closer-- he was clearly a man. He verbally referred to himself as one in sloppy English, whipping his silver hair over his shoulder, gesturing down to his (huge) cock-- no amount of low resolution could hide the fact that this performer was enormous. A pornstar prick on a beautiful man’s body, and Yuuri…

Was harder than he had ever been in his life. Eighteen years old and still riding on the coattails of having gotten into Wharton, he quadruple-checked that his headphones were plugged in and turned the volume up on his computer, licking his lips as the performer chuckled in some… Maybe Slavic language? His voice was deep, deeper than Yuuri had expected for a man of his frame, and by the way his cock hardened and a shiver of something ran through his spine, Yuuri liked it. He-- the performer-- grinned and looked as if he was teasing his partner, gesturing to his prick (hard and red and long and thick) and squeezing up from the base to the head of it as if he were milking himself. Yuuri could only copy the motion, hissing through his teeth as precome poured out of both of them.

Yuuri wanted… Something. He didn’t know what. It looked like the performer did, from the way he circled his hips, still fully seated on his partner’s cock. It should have been satisfying just knowing that something was deep in somewhere, but… Something wasn’t right, not by the way the platinum blond stared down at the camera, and not by the way his partner whined. The blond said something-- maybe Russian?-- and bit his lip, waggling his eyebrows and wiggling his hips. The lilt in his voice indicated it was a question, and, oh, Yuuri wished he could answer it right then and there. Instead the performer’s partner did, something in possibly-Russian again, and immediately the two were apart. The other performer rolled onto his back, raising his hips, and the long-haired one squirted out a generous dollop of lube to--

Yuuri slammed his laptop closed, frantically checking the door. No one was there. He was alone in the privacy of his room, and-- was completely alone, blushing on the floor with a tent in his pants. Biting his lips together, Yuuri cracked his laptop open again and typed in his password.

The performer kept going without a hitch, carefully rubbing the lubricant along his fingers, before smiling down at his partner and… Well, the angle it was at had emphasized the performer’s face; it was tasteful, until Yuuri’s eyes were up close and personal with some stranger’s asshole. He looked away, blushing, only peeking back through the periphery of his vision… Was it okay to look?

It looked as if he was being… Well. Massaged. There was moaning, sure, but… The performer’s fingers were gentle, barely pressing at it, and it didn’t look all that bad. At least nothing like what his friends described when they talked about anal-- it didn’t look painful, or cruel. Someone was whispering something in-- Yuuri was going to guess Russian, soft and clearly sweet. This wasn’t really… Was this what gay porn was like? He paused the video, opening a recommended video on his browser, labeled, screamingly in all caps, “HUNK GETS VICTOR TREATMENT.”

Just on the wrong side of concerned, Yuuri pressed play. Groaning and straining, there was a clearly muscled gentleman looking as if he was struggling with… possibly the apparent prick in his ass, belonging to no one else but the blond performer from earlier. Was this the “HUNK,” or Victor?

Curious, Yuuri leaned forward, watching-- this was by far less erotic and more brutal, the performer from the other video slamming his hips into the gentleman on his hands and knees. Jesus. Yuuri could hear the slap of skin on skin loud through his headphones, the larger gentleman beginning to moan, as if in a prayer, “Victor, Victor, Victor.”

Oh. Geez. The man bottoming wasn’t his type, sure-- that was to say, men weren’t his type-- but… Jesus, that Victor performer was easy on the eyes. From his long silvery hair to those cheekbones that could cut-- to the jawline, to his chest and body, he was… Really, really not bad-looking. Especially the look in his eyes, dazed and relaxed and almost amused at everything happening around him, it was hard not to watch. From his musculature to his movements, he was almost compelling.

It took a few moments for Yuuri to remember that he had another tab of Victor open-- he clicked that back up, pressing play again and watching the performer-- Victor-- get to work. It started with fingers, long and delicate and quick, rubbing along the… other man’s hole (Yuuri whipped his head back at the door for the umpteenth time just to make sure no one was watching), while, on screen, someone moaned.

Did that feel good, touching somewhere so filthy? Was this some sort of fetish, or was there something different about anal sex as opposed to, well, using his asshole for its intended purpose? He didn’t know. Yuuri stared for a moment, knees curled up to his chest as he listened to moaning, to panting and the wet sound of…

Youth was a time for personal exploration, of course. Right? His parents had always encouraged Mari to express herself, to try new things in her youth. Yuuri’s hand twitched-- it was the same with this, right? No one would get hurt. No one else would know…

He was quick to shuck off his pants and pull his bottle of lubricant closer, popping the cap and pouring a small dollop onto his fingers. He rewound the video, tongue sticking out in concentration-- how did Victor do it again…? Curling his knees back up to his chest, Yuuri slipped his hand between his legs and, slowly, gently… Just touched at himself. It didn’t feel like much-- nothing that warranted all the moaning from Victor’s partner, certainly, but it didn’t feel bad, either. Yuuri just watched the video, silently rubbing at his, um-- his hole, finding it… Not too bad.

It wasn’t entirely different from rubbing against the skin of his arm, really-- it wasn’t all that sensitive. And yet on screen, the not-Victor performer moaned and arched his back, like…

Was it really that good? Was it some sort of acquired taste, like wine? Yuuri had heard about how it felt to stimulate the prostate, but… Well. It could never hurt to try, right? Besides-- he whipped his head to the door for the umpteenth time-- there was no one watching.

Yuuri bit his lips together, idly rubbing the skin of his hole, until he pressed on.

It wasn’t good.

He pulled his finger out, glared at the video on his screen, and shut his laptop.

___

Three days later, he googled (Incognito)-- “Victor porn star.”

It wasn’t that he was curious, so much as he was… Well, fine. Curious. Attracted, maybe. That performer was so graceful-- something about the way he moved, his presence, was just mouth watering. Yuuri had done his damnedest to focus in classes, to keep up with his friends and extracurriculars without thinking about him, but-- god, those eyes. That hair, long and just begging to be pulled. Everything about him was slender but strong, and… No one else was watching. This was something very personally his, and there was no point in feeling shame about it. He wasn’t hurting anyone.

This was alright, he decided, pressing ‘Enter’ and perusing the results. There was a site-- as well as a hefty amount of articles, oddly enough, every single one of them written by ‘Victor.’

He started with the site, clicking it-- affirming that, yes, he was over 18-- and…

Victor’s hair was shorter. Was he watching an old video, earlier? Yuuri could have sworn he remembered Victor looking younger, slimmer.

Though, to be fair, he didn’t look bad as he was-- he’d gotten himself a six pack and a smirk that oozed a sort of confidence Yuuri wished he had. He had to have been photoshopped: no one looked that good. Especially not when he thumbed at his boxers, reclined back on some bed and brow cocked like he was expecting something… Yuuri’s mouth watered.

It was exploration, really, just him learning about himself. It was healthy to be curious, anyway, and-- he clicked a video link, the thumbnail giving a tantalizing view of Victor biting onto his shirt, sweating and staring at the camera as if he was planning on fucking Yuuri through the screen of his laptop.

Yuuri squirmed in place as the video loaded, triple-checking his headphones, making sure he was plugged in, when… Oh, god. Some performer was leaning onto a countertop, backside up and waiting, and the way Victor looked down at him as he pushed in, in, in-- even the other performer’s moan wrought a shiver down his spine. Yuuri checked the description, finding the guy to be some Christophe Giacometti-- he didn’t care quite enough to google him just yet, instead focusing on the way Victor just glided in and out of him, prick gleaming in the harsh light of the shoot.

Was it lube? Oil, maybe? Yuuri didn’t know-- all he knew was that his lube was nearby, and that he was definitely grabbing it, spurting a good few drops into his palm before sneaking his hand under his underwear. Victor was watching Christophe with such focus-- his jaw was dropped, bangs waving with every thrust of his hips. The skin on his chest and back flushed, even as his balls slapped Christophe’s backside, and-- what would it be like if Victor looked at him like that? Had his hands on Yuuri’s hips like that, almost pulling Yuuri onto his cock? Making him take it?

Yuuri could feel his cheeks burn, hips wriggling against the duvet of his bed. He’d been through this already, hadn’t he? He didn’t want… He watched Victor pull out of the other performer slowly, more and more of him visible, red and thick and heavy. Watched it push right back in, only squeezing in by force. His jaw had dropped-- it looked so smooth. Like a perfect fit.

Victor went slow, only smiling while his partner groaned, begging for more-- “No,” Yuuri whispered in the quiet of his room. No, he needed to be teased more. Needed to be broken down and sobbing before he got what he wanted, needed to need it--

But of course he wasn’t the director, and Victor slammed his hips into Christophe, starting an outright brutal pace. It was good in its own way, of course, but it didn’t stop Yuuri from scrolling the video back to his favorite part.

And if he licked his lips and shifted his hips, spreading his legs just a little bit-- well. Maybe second time was the charm, after all. He bit his lip, bucking his hips into his finger the moment it touched his hole. He was riled up this time-- he hadn’t masturbated in days, too busy with tests and paperwork and hearing Yuuko talk about her boyfriend.

But now was time for him to be alone, to take care of himself, to de-stress. Yuuri took a deep breath. Rubbed against his hole, smearing lube around it-- and pushed in.

He didn’t know what he did differently, this time: last time it had just been uncomfortable, but now… Maybe it was just because he was riled up. His finger felt almost… Good, in a way. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, at least, not when he imagined Victor doing this for him.

Victor. Fingering him open, staring down at Yuuri with the same single-minded focus he gave the other performer, what’s-his-name… Yuuri dropped his head back and moaned. Something about the thought just made him so sensitive, in the best possible way. He pushed in further. Just a little bit. Closed his eyes and listened to the audio, hips rolling into his hand. Victor would be patient with him. Make sure he was liking it.

He was. “Ah--” he sighed, cutting himself off lest anyone hear him. Victor, gently feeling around the heat inside of him-- and it was so, so hot-- before pulling out his finger, gently, softly.

...And pumping back in. Yuuri jolted at the sensation of his own hand, bucking his hips into it again and straining himself to go knuckle-deep, feeling for-- for-- he felt his tongue stick out between his lips in concentration, finger twitching around inside him for-- oh. God.

Oh, god. He was done for. That was-- that-- he couldn’t help but press on it again, toes curling, abdomen tensing, teeth gritting-- Victor-- oh, Victor--

He came. In less than a minute, with his own hand, he’d gotten off like-- like-- he didn’t even know. Yuuri just sat there in his bed, listening to the now-useless audio ringing hollow in his ears.


	2. Better Than 4K

Yuuri ran a hand through his hair, idly wondering how long the Pendleton account would take; two, maybe three extra hours? He’d have to run through the Excel sheet, figure out where all that advertising spending was coming from, not to mention tell their client to halt all advertising as quickly as possible within reason… 

 

On days like these, his office felt smaller than ever, the claustrophobic walls looming high around him. But he just needed to finish a few more files, really-- then he could go home. There were pros and cons of a cushy, elite accounting gig in Manhattan, and the hours, oh, those were a major con. Not even counting Celestino’s recent individual request, for Yuuri to help plan the finances of some Nikiforov… 

 

It was almost time for Nikiforov to walk in, rich and flaunting his money and apparently saving up for some kind of… Studio? Honestly, Yuuri couldn’t care less-- he wanted to go home. He wanted to do dinner with his roommate, Phichit, he wanted to play a few video games, and he wanted to finally fit his damned Victor-replica prick inside of him, a challenge that had had him stumped for  _ months _ . 

 

Not that it wasn’t well made (it was food-grade silicone, thank you) or that Yuuri were somehow unprepared for it. It just… 

 

For a man with a size kink and a passion for video games, Victor’s replica phallus felt like something of a final boss at the end of a long game. Like a sisyphean task-- just, rather than with a stone and hill, with… 

 

Yuuri, going red in the face, decided not to finish that analogy. Instead, he contented himself with picking at the Excel sheet in front of him and opening a fresh file for the incoming client; texting Phichit with a quick gripe about the extra work handed to him as a ‘favor’ for his boss. 

 

Phichit, surely still in class, didn’t respond. Yuuri sighed and put away his phone, swiping his hair back for his incoming client, when he received a knock at his door. “Come in!” he called, smiling over at his secretary, Minami, and-- 

 

Oh. Shit. 

 

Victor walked in the door.  _ The  _ Victor, more famous in his respective industry than Ron Jeremy or James Deen or-- anyone, really. He had and only needed one name-- like Madonna, or Marilyn, he was… Oh. Good god, his secretary and apparent client were staring at him. Yuuri’s eyes shot down to his desk. “Yes, um. Come in, Mister Nikiforov,” he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck and sitting down. This was-- 

 

Absolutely bizarre. It was like his browser history (Incognito, of course) come to life: Victor, clad in a tight-fitting suit with his hair styled to perfection, sat right down in the seat across from Yuuri and pulled out a briefcase. “Thanks, Minami,” he called out to his secretary, sitting back down and. And. 

 

There was only so much he could do to collect himself. Victor Nikiforov. 

 

“You’re a fan, I take it?” Victor asked with his characteristic smile, charming and relaxed, and oh dear god, Yuuri had just been thinking about his cock. 

 

And he’d just about been rightly accused of it, right then and there. If nothing else, Yuuri could feel his cheeks  _ burn _ . 

 

“Oh-- Oh, god, I am so sorry,” Yuuri blurted first thing, pushing up his glasses. “This is--” this was the least professional moment of his life. “I--” 

 

“You’re fine,” Victor cut in with a wave of his hand, “Trust me, I’m used to it-- it’s what you get in this job. Anyway,” Victor segued seamlessly back to business, pulling out his briefcase and cracking it open. “I’m looking to build a studio-- either here or in LA-- and I just wanted to go over a budget, a savings plan, all of that.” 

 

For the first time, Yuuri experienced what had to be emotional whiplash; Victor went from implying that Yuuri had watched his porn to his financial documents, and… Well. He did have a job to do, didn’t he? 

 

Yuuri accepted Victor’s ( _ Victor’s _ ) tax statements, skimming his income, his account balances-- wow. No wonder Celestino wanted to take an individual case, because this was… “Wow, that’s a bit impressive, especially given--” 

 

“Given?” Victor interrupted with a smile that was-- a little different. It didn’t hit his eyes as well, and he almost looked… Perhaps mad? 

 

Yuuri took a deep breath, collecting himself before forging on, “Given that your industry is pretty diverse-- it’s a lot like acting, right? A lot of people involved in it, and a difficulty in establishing a brand based on, well-- you. I mean, it’s impressive that you’re doing well financially, because of…” he trailed off, eyeing Victor for a moment, before continuing-- “And there are more studios, a lot of pirated content-- it’s-- it’s hard to make an income like that. R-right?” Oh, god. His favorite porn star walked into his office and Yuuri had insulted him, right there off the bat. “I mean-- god, I’m sorry, that’s not--” 

 

“You’re right,” Victor answered, airy smile plastered on his face. “Piracy’s a major problem with the industry, haha-- I just think it’s a mix of luck and skill that I’m here in the first place.” 

 

“Th-- that and the lack of regulation of individual studios, right?” Yuuri piped in, quoting directly from one of Victor’s VICE articles, and-- oh, god. 

 

He’d just outed himself for the second time that day to his client, and this was the worst consultation he had ever had in his  _ life _ . 

 

Thankfully, at least, Victor just agreed with him, eyes sparkling as he concurred, “Exactly! And so much of it stems from this belief that sex work doesn’t ‘count’ as real work, as if fucking for three hours is  _ easy _ \--” Victor cut himself off with an apologetic smile. “Sorry-- too much information?” 

 

Yuuri sat still for a moment-- three  _ hours _ ?-- before fully taking in just what he was hearing. “No, no, it’s-- I mean-- I only see the end product. I don’t actually know anything about production,” he admitted, feeling surprisingly less awkward than he’d expected, given that he was talking about porn with a man to whom he had regularly masturbated. 

 

Victor didn’t seem phased, at least, when he explained, “It’s actually more labor intensive than you’d think-- staying hard for up to two hours, all that thrusting; it’s... “ 

 

“Like a constant workout?” Yuuri guessed, setting Victor’s financial records aside for a moment to enjoy the conversation. He’d never-- well-- he’d never really learned about what it was like to produce a porno. Sure, his subscription to Victor’s website allowed him to see a little bit of behind-the-scenes work (not to mention his blog), but… It was different, coming straight from the source, face to face. 

 

Maybe Yuuri was curious. “Exactly!” Victor answered, “Like a workout where you’re still expected to look good. You wouldn’t  _ believe  _ how long you have to sit in a makeup chair to look just right.” 

 

Oh? “Really? I’d always thought you just-- go out there and…?” 

 

“Not at all, Victor answered right back, clearly getting comfortable. “Of course there’s prep-- usually reserved for women and whoever’s bottoming at the time, of course-- but there’s also so much shit you have to put on your body to even look nice in the right light. It’s…” He trailed off, looking away for a moment. “I hope I’m not ruining the fantasy?” 

 

Yuuri sat up straighter in his seat, arms flailing to get his point across-- “No, no, not at all. It’s really interesting! I mean, I don’t know anything about it, and, well.”

 

Victor leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand and looking through his eyelashes at Yuuri like-- like-- he didn’t even know. The man before him was just-- gorgeous beyond belief. “And I don’t know a thing about accounting, so I guess we’re even.” 

 

Yuuri laughed, shockingly at ease, and they finally turned to Victor’s financial documents. 

 

After a good few minutes of reading, several things were clear: first, that Victor made too damned much during any given year. Second, that he had a dependent, leading Yuuri to wonder whether he’d had a straight phase or just adopted a child-- “My friend’s son; she wanted him to get an education in Switzerland, but we ended up compromising here.”-- and… What seemed like not nearly enough money in his savings account to start a new studio. 

 

“Well…” There was no easy way to break the news. ‘You’re going to have to take out a loan’ was too harsh, and ‘Most porn’s just pirated onto free porn sites now as it is’ was even worse. “My main concern is how you’re going to make a lucrative business, I guess. Even just taking a look at LA real estate, the price of buying professional cameras--” 

 

“Renting professional cameras,” Victor corrected quickly, pointer finger up. 

 

“Renting, yeah-- even with all that, you won’t have enough to set up a decent website with a video service.” Yuuri bit his lip, staring at the paperwork and typing relevant numbers into his Excel sheet, “And how are you planning on gaining revenue, by the way? Subscriber count? Advertising? I have a friend who might know more about this than me--” Phichit  _ was  _ specializing his master’s degree in internet startups-- “But…” 

 

The look in Victor’s eyes was familiar: Yuuri had done it himself back at Wharton. Confusion, awkwardly staring in Yuuri’s general direction, listening intently without any actual comprehension of what was coming out of Yuuri’s mouth. “So…” he trailed off, closing his eyes, “Basically with the current market it’s impossible.” 

 

“At least if you’re looking to turn a profit,” Yuuri corrected with a sigh, running his hand through his hair. There was an awkward pause as Victor stared down at Yuuri’s desk, jaw set. “I mean, I can go through your tax statements, too, if you like--” 

 

“No, no, that’s fine,” Victor waved away the offer quickly, frowning in thought. “So-- I mean-- say that I’m not looking for a major profit, but instead I just don’t want to hemorrhage money. How much would I need to make back?” 

  
“Monthly?” 

 

“Sure,” Victor answered, leaning back in the chair and crossing his legs. “Just-- ballpark estimate.” 

 

Yuuri went quiet. Victor had fifteen million dollars to work with, here-- not a small amount of money. “Say that you bought some empty space in a decent area; you could sell it off later on if the business didn’t go well, or…” He worried at his lower lip with his teeth, before considering, “Or, you could start off with a small studio space, rent a storage room for--” uh. Ropes and whips and dildos? “Supplies. Say the studio is apartment-sized, if it’s not in a too-expensive area and looks decent enough, you can develop the brand there, consider working up once you’ve got a strong subscriber base-- or just a lot of incoming viewers, relying on advertising…” 

 

That still left the question of video streaming, of servers, of a website. “You’d have to start out small, sure, like any studio. But…” Yuuri trailed off, brows raised. “I mean, if you’re careful about it, it’s possible… You’d have to make, maybe… Ten thousand dollars per month back? And that’s just an estimate; I’m not even sure about paying performers, editors, production costs.” 

 

“Hm,” Victor hummed, arms crossed and staring down at his shoes. “I see. That’s-- a lot more than I was considering, to be perfectly honest.” 

 

“Well, haha-- that’s what I’m here for,” Yuuri smiled, carefully straightening out Victor’s financial statements and clipping them together with a paperclip, automatically tucking his card underneath the metal. “I’d have to know just what you’re looking to get and all, but if you’re looking to take your business to the next step, all you have to do is call.” Yuuri felt-- oddly confident, as he handed Victor his paperwork, smilingly offering to have his longtime porn-crush back in his office. It was as if he’d stepped into some other world, and finally just… Decided to roll with it.

 

Victor pursed his lips, oddly… Maybe smirking? Yuuri couldn’t quite place the expression; only watched as his newfound client accepted his file with a grin, delicately slipping Yuuri’s card out from the rest and slipping it into the front pocket of his suit. “Will do, Mister…?” 

 

Oh-- good god, he hadn’t even told Victor his name. “Oh, Katsuki. Yuuri Katsuki.” He paused, before giving his usual rote explanation, “It’s okay if it’s hard to pronounce, whatever works with y--” 

 

“Kot...Ski?” Victor tried, getting the pronunciation, funnily enough, right on the first try. 

 

“Y--yeah, Katsuki,” Yuuri answered with a smile, nodding as Victor stepped out of his office. 

 

“Thanks again, Mister Katsuki!” he called, before stepping out and closing the door. Yuuri just waved as he left, only collapsing into a heap of embarrassment on his desk once the door was fully closed. 

 

He stayed there for a good few moments, just… Letting himself bask in the shock. In the surprise. There was no way Victor Nikiforov was going to call him for business advice; Yuuri hadn’t known a damned thing. All he could do was ballpark, but-- but-- 

 

He’d met Victor in the flesh, and he looked just as perfect in real life. 4K had nothing on the real thing. 

 

Finally Yuuri pulled out his phone, opening his messages app: he needed to text Phi. 

 

_ You’re gonna need to hear about my day when you get home. _

 

___

  
  


Getting home, Yuuri went through Phichit’s schedule: he had two hours until Phi would come back, prop his legs up, and watch the newest episode of Project Runway from their Tivo. Setting down his bag, Yuuri placed his hands on his hips in the living room, biting his lips together as if running to his room and opening an Incognito window hadn’t been his plan from the beginning. No, he’d planned out his hours alone with a surgeon’s precision: which plugs to use, which dildo he’d get off on. He knew what he wanted, he thought in silence as he stripped himself of his tie and blazer; he knew what he was getting to as he stepped into his bedroom, running his hands down his body as if he were offering up a show. 

 

And, oh, he loved the idea of showing off. He was a closet exhibitionist, surely, slamming his door closed with his hip and thumbing at the waistband of his trousers. Sure, he’d never been with anyone-- he’d never bothered with romance or sex back in college when there was so much work to do, and the problem followed him to his professional life. But-- well, damn if he couldn’t fantasize. 

 

And fantasize he did, remembering Victor ( _ the _ Victor) Nikiforov sat in his office, casual and jaunty and gorgeous in the light from Yuuri’s office window. Remembered how good he looked in that dove-gray suit, tight on his body, complimenting the pale glow of his skin. The sparkle in his eyes. 

 

In any other circumstance, Yuuri would have begged to be taken right then and there. And, when reality didn’t achieve expectations, well, he always had his mind. 

 

Yuuri hurried to strip off his clothes, leaving his button-down and trousers on the floor: he had work to get to, and not many opportunities in the week to get to it. 

 

Quickly he got down on his hands and knees, procuring his beloved little shoebox and pulling out from it lube and his favorite black starter plug, slim at first and slowly tapering into something… Certainly not Victor-sized, but surely a little thicker than the average prick. Settling into his bed, spreading his legs and popping the cap of his favorite lubricant, Yuuri paused. Pursed his lips, eyes sliding to where his laptop sat, pretty and innocent-looking on his desk…

 

He grabbed it and went back to bed, typing in Victor’s web address from memory, biting his lower lip as the page loaded, giving Yuuri… Oh, god, he always looked so good on the welcome page. In a black suit and staring down at the camera like he knew what every fan was coming for, he was-- 

Showing through his trousers, hard and long and thick, and all Yuuri could do was log in and browse his videos, professionalism be damned. He doubted Victor would call him for financial advice again, anyway. 

 

Squeezing a generous dollop of lube onto his fingers, then, he spread his legs, settled himself onto his side, and reached back. 

 

Oh.  _ Oh. _ God, he’d needed this. Just the littlest stretch of his pointer finger was perfect; he hadn’t had the time or privacy to get off all week, and after a stressful day like today, it was… “Ah,” he sighed, barely audible to his own ears, closing his eyes and letting his finger do the work. He was so warm inside-- every time he did this he couldn’t help but marvel at his own body heat, warm and wet and soft to the touch-- 

 

And that was about when he found his prostate again. Almost immediately, he could feel his mind becoming-- cloudy, dazed. No. No, not yet. He needed-- at the very least, more. Clenching down hard on his own fingers, Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and pulled out. 

 

_ Damn _ his oversensitive prostate. 

 

Panting, Yuuri grabbed for the plug, lubed it with a quick hand, and reached back, arching his back so he could get the best angle to press it in, and… quickly dropped his head back onto his mattress with a groan. He loved this plug to the world and back-- the way it stretched him, nice and slow, got him acclimated to the stretch at just the right pace. 

 

He squeezed down on the plug, bucking his hips at the intrusion, cock hard and dripping, and-- he looked up at the monitor. Victor. Victor Nikiforov, smirking down at him as if he knew exactly what Yuuri were up to; hell, Victor had been able to tell that day having only looked Yuuri in the face for a  _ second _ . 

 

Yuuri shut his laptop, cheeks burning. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I told y'all there would be a plot, and we're just getting into it! I'm really, really excited about this fic, and hope you enjoy the little introduction chapter!


	3. Down to Business

Phichit stirred his teabag carefully, skimming over homework assignments as he listened. “So your favorite porn star just walked into your office.” 

 

“Well… There might have been a bit more,” Yuuri amended, holding a pillow close to his chest and tucking his knees under his chin, feet twiddling at the couch cushion. “He, um. Kinda caught me?” 

 

Finally, Phichit deemed it necessary to widen his eyes and drop the assignments for a second. “Wait. He…?” 

 

“He could tell from the moment we made eye contact,” Yuuri admitted pitifully, covering his eyes with his hands. “He just looked at me and  _ knew _ .” 

 

“Oh, no.” 

 

“Oh, yes.” 

 

There was a good few seconds of silence-- Phi bit his lips together, eyes shut as if in mourning of Yuuri’s sexual confidence, and Yuuri just buried his head in his knees to cover up the blush in his cheeks. “Did he just… Leave?” Phi guessed, putting his spoon down and evidently readying himself to comfort a traumatized roommate. 

 

“We talked, actually?” 

 

“Oh? That’s not that bad,” Phi offered back, lifting his cup to his face and giving his tea a nice cooling blow. “You two held a conversation, at least.” 

 

“And it was interesting, in all fairness-- did you know pornstars have to keep it up for hours?” 

 

“ _ Hours _ ?” Phichit looked downright concerned, hand flying to his chest as if he were some southern debutante. 

 

“That’s what he told me, at least,” Yuuri answered with a nod, finally relaxing his grip on his pillow. “And we talked a little bit about sex worker activism, too.” 

 

“Like, available condoms and stuff?” Phi asked, genuinely interested-- he took a sip of his tea, before recoiling and setting it down, fanning off his burned tongue. 

 

“You okay?” 

 

“Juth go on,” Phi waved away Yuuri’s concerns, tongue stuck out. He stayed that way as Yuuri continued.    
  
“Yeah, condoms and stuff, and-- kind of, societal expectations of sex work? I’m not going to pretend to know anything about it, but I definitely read a few of his articles.” 

 

“You read  _ articles _ by your favorite porn star.” 

 

Yuuri bit his lips together and hid his face, holding his pillow close. “It’s educational,” he admitted quietly. It  _ was _ that, but both of them knew better than to think it was for knowledge’s sake alone.

 

“At least you weren’t an asshole about it, I mean-- you could have been worse, right? Outright telling him it was wrong, evil, or whatever?” Phichit finally took a successful sip of his tea, grinning when he managed not to burn himself. It was the little victories, in their apartment. 

 

Still-- Yuuri looked away, wondering if his advice had been too… Abrasive. “He was trying to save up for a studio of his own-- like for production, and, um. I guess I tried to temper his expectations a little?” There were a good few moments of silence, as Phichit appeared to hold his chest and look at Yuuri as if  _ he  _ were the one to be pitied in this instance. Yuuri stared at his roommate, before finally shaking his head in a tacit little, ‘ _ what? _ ’ 

 

“There go my hopes for you to seduce him,” Phi sighed theatrically, taking a longer sip of his tea with a wink in Yuuri’s direction. 

 

Phichit received a well-deserved pillow to the face. 

 

___

 

When Minami informed Yuuri that he had an appointment in Brooklyn the next day, Yuuri thought nothing of it: sure, it was unusual to schedule an appointment in such a hurry, especially when it wasn’t tax season, but-- who knew, maybe the film studio needed some sort of urgent advice. Maybe they were being audited, he thought, as he shuffled into a comfortable seat on the train, watching as people shuffled in before the doors closed. Maybe they were close to filing for bankruptcy-- Yuuri couldn’t guess why they’d need him on such short notice, really. For now he decided to be thankful for the short-notice and travel fees that would go to his bank account. 

 

Preferring that train of thought to wondering why a studio would be requesting him at this short of notice, he leaned back in his seat, looked around at his fellow riders, and wondered what he’d do with the extra money coming into his pocket. He could finally buy that video game system Phichit and he had been drooling over for the past month; they could finally play the new Zelda game, waste a few hundred hours together on their communal couch. Realistically, he knew it would be better to save it, or invest, or  _ something _ , but… 

 

Oh, the call of Hyrule was a tempting one. Yuuri pulled out his phone-- no service-- and pocketed it once more, looking around the train. People stared down at their phones, looked around, read books-- everyone was in their own little world, private and secluded on the crowded train. It was nice, in a way. Hell, it was even nice to get away from his office for a while, just-- having time to think. Observe awhile. 

 

There was a sort of peace for him, without any distraction on the train; when he walked off, he felt good. Refreshed, despite having been crammed in a sardine can underground for the last forty minutes. With a smile, then, Yuuri walked around Prospect Park, checking his mobile to make sure he was on the right track, and finally walking into a nondescript brownstone and ringing the bell for ‘Studio Giacometti.’ Yuuri wondered for a good few moments just what the studio was for; based on the title, it had to be some sort of art-nouveau indie thing, and, waiting for the inner door to unlock itself, he began to google it when-- 

 

Oh! He was in. Yuuri walked through, taking the elevator up to the second floor, and knocking carefully at the office door labeled ‘Thomas.’ 

 

“Hello? Mister… Toussaint?” Yuuri tried, wincing as he butchered his client’s last name. “I’m here to discuss with you-- um,” he hadn’t actually been briefed on what he would be doing, here-- was it more cleaning up files, exactly, or a consultation? 

 

“Yes! I am so sorry about that, let me--” came a masculine voice cut with a thick French accent, followed by some shuffling noises. “Sorry!” called a blond gentleman in a t-shirt and jeans, opening his office door while someone else sat on the couch inside. 

 

“Ah, sorry about that--” the other man began, tossing his long hair to the side, “I’m Charles Toussaint-- and don’t worry, my name is impossible to pronounce. Mister…?” 

 

Yuuri smiled right back, walking in and offering his hand. “Mine is too-- I’m Katsuki Yuu-- I mean, Yuuri Katsuki.” He rarely still struggled with name inversion, natural as it was to state his last name first back home in Japan-- but when he did, it always came at the worst possible time. 

 

“Oh, that’s a beautiful name. Japanese?” asked the blond, jutting out his hand for a shake and continuing, “Christopher Giacometti.” 

 

“Oh, so this studio’s named after you, I take it?” Yuuri asked, taking a seat in front of the desk stationed nearby. 

 

“It is! My partner and I started it a few years ago, and…” He shrugged one shoulder, sitting down on the couch next to Charles and pressing a quick peck to his cheek. “And we’ve been doing well it ever since!” 

 

Oh. Expanding? That sounded pretty good-- in all likelihood Yuuri needed to go over their financial statements. “That’s wonderful! I, um--” Was it alright to ask what they filmed? Or was it just an art thing? “What do you guys… Produce?” 

 

Giacometti was quick to answer with a smile, “Porn! Victor actually recommended us to you, and we just wanted you to look over a few financial statements and discuss our next steps expanding!” 

 

Yuuri went silent. He was positive there was some frozen expression of surprise plastered on his face, but-- porn? Victor? After how he’d behaved during their first consultation,  _ why  _ would he refer him to another studio? “O-Oh, I see,” Yuuri stuttered, running a hand through his hair. “Wow, that’s really sweet of him-- I had no idea. I’m glad I made a good impression--” 

 

“A  _ very  _ good impression,” Chris cut in, before his partner elbowed him. “Anyway, we’ve been saving up to buy another property in LA, have a studio where we can more easily access cameras, production equipment-- you know.” 

 

“Of course,” Yuuri rifled through his briefcase, pulling out his laptop and opening up a spreadsheet. “So the first question would be what your budget is for a new location…” Not to mention travel costs for anything cross-country, filing their taxes in California, hiring a crew… “What have you guys got so far?” 

 

“Well-- we’ve saved a good four million so far, and we’ve been considering taking out a loan--” Charles paused, thinking, “We already have a loan out for this property, though, so--” 

 

“How much more do you have left to pay off on this loan? What’s the APR?” Yuuri cut in, already making a new column in his spreadsheet. 

 

Chris looped an arm around his partner’s shoulders and opened his mouth to speak when their office door opened once more, revealing Victor Nikiforov, clad in nothing but a splayed-open robe and a smile. “Hey! I didn’t want to miss your meeting!” 

 

There was nothing Yuuri could do but sit in open-mouthed silence at the intrusion, staring at the  _ protrusion  _ from Victor’s groin. Good god, it looked even bigger in real life. 

 

It took a good second or two for Victor to realize his position; it took another few moments for him to extricate the belt loop of his robe from the doorknob, smilingly re-tying his robe and walking in. “Hey, Mister Katsuki! I was wondering if I could sit in on your meeting? I just wanted to get a grasp of what running a studio is like.” 

 

...So they were going to ignore the fact that Victor was in nothing but a robe, then. And that he’d whipped his dick out not seconds before, some sort of baby oil slicked down his thighs. 

 

Yuuri stared wide-eyed at the desk in front of him as he heard Chris welcome his… Employee into the office. “Hey babe, yeah, I brought him in for a bit of help--” he turned to Yuuri, explaining, “Sorry about him, he just got out of a shoot.” 

 

“It’s fine.” Did Yuuri’s voice just crack? If nothing else, his cheeks  _ burned _ . 

 

“Anyway, um--” Chris walked around the desk, pulling up bank statements on his computer, “We were just talking about loans and stuff, sorta making a timetable for our expansion.” 

 

“Y-Yes,” Yuuri took his chance while he had it, jumping back into his work: “The loan and interest rate?” 

 

Charles walked around to the desk, now, taking the plush seat behind it and tilting the monitor in Yuuri’s direction. “We took out about two-point-five million, mostly to get the property and some basic equipment; the APR is only .8%, thanks to my credit score--” he flashed a quick grin Yuuri’s way, and Yuuri just smiled back as Victor evidently made himself comfortable on their couch, watching their exchange. “And then… Really, we took that out three years ago, and only have about six hundred thousand left to pay off…” 

 

“So you’ve been doing about six hundred-fifty thousand per year, plus APR?” Yuuri cut in, opening another window to take notes. 

 

“Yeah-- our studio’s small, and we only have a few in-house employees doing production to post, so most of the overhead goes to paying loans.” 

 

Huh. That wasn’t bad at all. Yuuri sat back, biting his lips together in thought. “So you guys make… How much per year, minus taxes?” 

 

“Our company profit as of last year was 1.2 million,” Charles answered quickly. Chris stood about, petting his shoulder and listening in. 

 

“Wow,” Victor sighed, and Yuuri couldn’t help but share the feeling-- that was. Well. Yuuri couldn’t help but be impressed. 

 

“It’s only because Chris is so famous, really-- we wouldn’t be able to make it without his brand,” Charles explained, tilting his head up to his partner and giving him a quick peck. “He’s brilliant in front of a camera, and he just  _ loves  _ every aspect of production-- he managed to figure out most of Media Composer in a day, which is prodigious of him, frankly, and--” 

 

“Enough about me, darling,” Chris smiled, running a hand through Charles’s hair. Yuuri bit back a smile himself-- for all the oddness of this appointment, Giacometti and his partner were cute together. 

 

“Right. So. Anyway… That’s really what we’ve got, now. We’re just wondering what would be the best move for us.”

 

Hmm. That was-- well, the real question was whether a new location would still garner the same amount of profit. “So you intend on making more videos at the new place, I take it?” 

 

“Exactly,” Chris agreed, continuing, “Ideally with a better, less cramped location, more available props and crews…” 

 

“I see...”  Yuuri trailed off, fiddling with the spreadsheet and biting his lip. Sure, they were making enough already to take out a loan and not worry about it, but… The issue was whether more video output would translate to more returns. Well-- they were already making enough now as it was… “In that case, maybe start with somewhere small in LA-- like what you’ve got here. You’d already be doubling the size of your studio as it is.” 

 

“But California real estate is--” Chris cut in, clearly unhappy with the advice-- 

 

“Also expensive. He’s right, honey.” Toussaint ran a hand through his hair and stared at his bank statements. “Look, we’ll update you when we’re looking at places-- I’m pretty sure I can guess your criteria, but we’ll consult you either way.” Toussaint looked at Yuuri, before reaching out to shake his hand for the second time that day. “We appreciate your advice, here-- and when we actually make a decision, I’m sure we’ll reach out to you for tax filing and the like.” 

 

Oh. Were they wrapping up? “Sure, of course-- you know how to contact me,” Yuuri answered, standing up and shaking Toussaint’s hand, smiling over at his partner. “It was nice meeting you two! And--” he turned to Victor, clashing with the formality of the meeting in his robe, smilingly observing them as if he were a student at some sort of lesson. What was there to say? ‘Thanks for the view?’ “Thanks for recommending me by the way, Mister Nikiforov!” he smiled, not  _ quite  _ sure where to look: his hair was ruffled, there was a light sheen of sweat on his skin, and one man could only be so obvious about having just had sex. There was really no protocol for professionalism, here-- all Yuuri could do was act as if all of this were somehow normal. 

 

“Oh, of course!” Victor cut in, stepping up to the desk and placing a hand on his hip. “Really, I’m grateful to all three of you-- Chris and Charlie here let me sit in on this as a bit of a lesson in the fiscal side of production, even if, ah--” He gestured to his clothes, “Well, the timing wasn’t right, but I’m not a fan of being late.” 

 

...Wasn’t a fan of being late? Yuuri’s brows raised to his hairline before he burst into laughter. Of all the lapses in professional etiquette today-- Victor didn’t want to be  _ late _ ? He covered his mouth with his hand in an attempt to stop, but just who was the one who’d flashed his employers? Thankfully Giacometti and Toussaint joined in, leaving Victor to bite back a smile, well aware that the amusement was at his expense. “I mean, that’s admirable,” Charles admitted, leading to another round of giggles. 

 

“I like to be on time,” Victor defended lamely, causing another round of laughter. 

 

Ah, speaking of-- Yuuri only had time for lunch before he needed to be back at the office. “On that note, I need to run and grab lunch,” he waved, just about ready to walk out the door when Victor called for him. 

 

“Sure-- there’s a wonderful Vietnamese place nearby, if you like? It should be quick; I can take you there?” Yuuri stood for a good moment in stunned silence, before, well. 

 

“Oh, uh. Yeah, sure,” he answered (never hurt to get on a client’s good side), before looking his client up and down-- “Though you might need to change.” 

 

If Victor had been cheerful before, now he outright lit up: he moved past Yuuri and walked out the door, winking at him with a quick, “Two minutes, at most-- you’ll be back at your office by one.”

 

None of this was within the scope of professional etiquette-- Yuuri was half sure they weren’t even in the same area code. All he could do was smile and call to Victor’s retreating back, “I’ll time you!”

 

___

 

He didn’t know what he was doing. This was… well, absolutely unexpected, for one, but also so  _ spontaneous _ . When was the last time he’d gone to lunch without a few days’ notice, let alone with a  _ stranger _ ? Sure, the meeting had been quick, and he’d even factored in his lunch break beforehand, but… 

 

Yuuri stood in the hallway, glancing down at his watch and wondering just how he’d gotten himself into lunch with his longtime favorite porn star. 

 

...Oh, god. That was what was happening.  _ The  _ Victor had just invited him out-- Yuuri buried his head in his hands. Victor already knew he was a fan; was this some sort of thank-you for his advice? A request for his accounting firm’s continued business? Yuuri set down his briefcase, looking out a small window at the end of the cramped hallway: he looked out into the street, watched people mulling by, completely unaware of the studio not fifty feet from them; vaguely, he heard muffled moans coming from somewhere down the hallway, and he couldn’t keep back a smile-- never in his life had he thought he’d meet  _ the  _ Victor; even more far-fetched was the idea of stepping foot into a porn studio, but… Well, here he was. 

 

Glancing down the hall, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Phi a quick update: 

 

_ Looks like I’m going to lunch with Victor-- I’ll update you after.  _

 

Yuuri pocketed his phone, ignoring the immediate response as Victor waved to him in something more publicly appropriate: jeans and a t-shirt. “Sorry about that!” he called, walking up and patting his pockets, “Just making sure I have my wallet. Ready to head out? It’s just a block away.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. In the interest of full disclosure, I'm... Not entirely happy with how this chapter turned out. I'm not very confident in my ability to write out long conversations, and I'm sure it shows-- and, to be honest, a big part of me is more focused on what's to come. 
> 
> I guess I like focusing on already-established relationships, but I'm doing my damnedest to not make this feel rushed. I'd love to hear how you feel about it in the comments! And, as always, I hope you guys enjoy!


	4. Proper Introductions

The restaurant was a little place that could be generously described as “bustling,” although the reality was closer to “absolutely packed.” It was lowly lit, despite it being the middle of the day, and the matching wood of the bar and tables gleamed as if it were freshly waxed. It was… Nice, if a little crowded. “Sorry about this, I didn’t have a reservation,” Victor admitted after they had been booted out to wait in a small crowd with the rest of the hungry patrons, “You’d think it’d be less crowded on a weekday, but it is lunch time.”

 

“It must’ve been featured in a magazine somewhere,” Yuuri piped in with a smile, cramming his hands in his jeans and wondering just when they’d get in-- and, more importantly, why _the_ Victor Nikiforov had invited him out to lunch. Really, in retrospect, the in-house meeting could have taken place over a phone call; no need to spend the extra money dragging Yuuri across town. Either way, Yuuri and Victor huddled underneath an awning to escape from the cold weather of early spring, staring into the street in silence.

 

Yuuri glanced through his peripheral vision at Victor, stood tall and casual and perfectly mussed-- no one had any right to look that good, especially not after hurrying to put himself together. Well. Yuuri gulped. He needed to say something. Wasn’t the silence getting awkward? Wasn’t Yuuri being an ungrateful guest? “So--” both of them started in tandem, and Yuuri could have opened a hole in the ground to sink into right then and there.

 

At least Victor was kind enough to laugh. He did so with a grin, placing his hands on his hips and explaining, “Sorry if this was too quick, by the way-- I’ve been told I’m a little pushy.”

 

“No, no,” Yuuri put his hands up as if to wipe away the apology, before noticing the nipping cold. He pocketed them again, going on to explain, “I was happy, really. It’s a little… Confusing, sure, but-- it’s fine, really. It’s nice to do something new.” Though, sure, no client had never just outright invited him to an impromptu lunch. This was just… Victor being straightforward.

 

“Ah, ha, well-- I was actually a little interested in getting to know you, if that’s alright. I’m delaying the plans for a studio, especially after hearing what Chris and Charles are up to; it’s, um, a little more money than I have right now, and I’m not all that interested in taking out too big of a loan,” Victor explained. Yuuri nodded-- it made sense, really. Fiscal responsibility and all that. It was fine.

 

But then again, Victor was still taking him out to lunch. ‘Interested in getting to know him.’ Yuuri ran a hand through his hair-- did he want to make a friend? Was he just looking to get free advice in the future? Or…? Yuuri’s voice was soft, tentative, when he asked, “You wanted to get to know me?”

 

Victor looked almost surprised. “Well-- yeah. To be honest, it was quite a first impression you made.” Victor must have seen the shock in Yuuri’s face, because he was quick to go on, “That is, usually when I talk about my line of work, there are… Well, there are lots of reactions, but yours was a bit of a first.”

 

Oh, god. Victor was offended. Yuuri had offended him. He could never masturbate again. “Was it?” he asked, voice tight.

 

“It was refreshing, I have to say. Nice just-- getting down to business without any of the awkward justifying of what I do.”

 

Yuuri frowned. “Why would you have to justify it?”

 

“Nikiforov, table for two!” Called a woman from inside the restaurant, and in reaction Victor only jerked his head in the direction of the door and walked inside. Yuuri followed suit, doing his damnedest not to pay attention to the line of his back. The broadness of his shoulders. The way his hair sparkled in the sunlight, looking smooth to the touch, as if he could just reach out and--

 

Yuuri bit down hard on his bottom lip, hurrying inside and taking a table close to the back. No getting distracted now, Katsuki. Sitting down, he asked, trying to distract from the heat in his cheeks, “Where were we?”

 

“Ah-- justifications, I think?” Victor answered, before smiling at a waiter and accepting two menus. “One for you,” Victor offered, passing the menu over, before continuing, “I guess I just mean the stigma pertaining to sex work. There’s this idea that it’s shameful or sinful, especially considering that most of my work is gay-- it was, um.” Victor smiled, leaning forward and only barely skimming the menu, instead looking straight into Yuuri’s eyes. “It was refreshing to just have it treated as a regular business.”

 

“Oh.” Yuuri blushed for a solid minute, glancing down at his menu and deciding on the spicy chicken bahn mi; he didn’t, um. He was just doing his job, after all… “I mean-- I’ve read a bit of-- some of your articles on VICE,” he demurred, continuing softly, “That, ah, taught me a lot about it-- in terms of, um, consent. Business practice. All that.”

 

Victor only cocked a brow and smiled, as if approving of him, before he glanced down at his menu and hummed. “Well, I appreciate it. And I’ll have to better edit my articles, if you’ll be reading them.”

 

This couldn’t be happening. Victor was smiling up at him with a twinkle in his eye, and Yuuri had to have been dreaming. “Well--” he started, mouth talking before his brain catch keep up, “I’m looking forward to the next one, then.” Oh, god. What was this banter? Were they getting along? It wasn’t quite how he interacted with Phichit-- with his roommate, he could just lie back on the couch and go full stream of consciousness, but here-- here there was some sort of pressure. Yuuri couldn’t describe it.

 

“I’m looking forward to writing it, actually-- I’m getting a little more political, to be perfectly honest-- talking about protection, the necessity for some overarching industry regulation, all that-- and just the research is so _fun_ .” Victor sat forward in his seat with a grin, lacing his fingers over one another. The next moment, however, Victor pulled back, glanced down at the table, and looked back at Yuuri. “But enough about me-- you sound so _interesting_ , Yuuri.”

 

“I’m an accountant,” Yuuri deadpanned right back, watching as his-- lunchmate bit back a laugh in response. Smiling, he continued, “Well. I’ve got a roommate, for one-- Phichit, and he’s the nosiest man on the planet. He’s getting his PhD over at NYU, and--”

 

“Impressive,” Victor cut in, accepting a class of water from their waiter and taking a quick sip. “In what?”

 

“In marketing,” Yuuri explained quickly, “We both went to business school together, and, well-- funnily enough we’ve both ended up here in New York. I just got a job at the accounting firm, and, well…” Yuuri trailed off with a quick shrug. What else was there to say? Phichit was incredible, continuing his education, surely planning on getting himself a cushy, high paying job in Manhattan, and... Yuuri was just Yuuri. “Here we are.”

 

“You’re selling yourself a bit short, there, aren’t you?” Victor asked with a smile. “I mean-- by the looks of it, you’re doing pretty well. Most of what you talk about with this goes right over my head.”

 

Over Victor’s head? _Him_? No. “No, no, it’s just-- I went to school for it. Really, it’s not that hard to pick up, if you give yourself the time…”

 

“But you’re doing pretty well for yourself. You have to give yourself that.”

 

Yuuri just looked down and blushed. Sure, he was doing alright, but-- but, well. There was so much more he still wanted to do; he’d always wanted to put together his own startup, to do something beneficial to the world; to do something challenging, purposeful. He wasn’t there, not yet. “Thanks,” he finally replied, running a quick hand through his hair. “Other than that, it’s mostly video games--”

 

“Oh, have you heard of Breath of the Wild? My nephew’s desperate for it.”

 

Had he _heard_ of Breath of the Wild? “I bought it a week or two ago with my roommate, and oh my god-- it is _so_ good,” he gushed, fingers drumming excitedly on the table, “The world is expansive like you wouldn’t believe-- it’s got a bigger map than Skyrim! I mean, some of the game mechanics are a little clunky-- you know, the energy meter-- but it at least makes it more realistic, you know? Especially paired with the Switch, it’s just-- the best gaming console you could ask for, and the characterization and plot are really fresh and new and really differ from the preceding games in terms of structure-- sure, it’s a little bit like A Link Between Worlds in that you can sort of choose the temple order, but it’s bigger by far. Not to mention the explanation for Link’s selective muteness, and explaining that it’s caused by his trauma; despite the style of the game being so bubbly and fun, the plot and characters are so much more complex and adult-like. They have actual character flaws, rather than just acting as archetypes, and it’s so _cool_.” That was about when Yuuri realized that he was rambling. He bit his lips together, looked down, and squeaked out a quick apology.

 

“No, no, it’s-- I never knew that. It’s interesting, is all,” Victor assured Yuuri, smiling at him with a look in his eye that Yuuri couldn’t quite place. “I’ve been meaning to get more into video games for my nephew anyway-- besides, I’m glad to know it’s a good game, given that he’s been saving up for it-- just through allowance, really, but it’s a solid start.”

 

Hm. Come to think of it-- “Do you live with him? Since you two sound so familiar…”

 

“I do, yeah,” Victor explained, right as the waiter came in to take their order. Having done so, he continued, “He lives with me; his mom’s-- my sister’s-- lifestyle is a little…” Victor trailed off in thought. “She’s a bit of a celebrity back home, and she wanted him to have a less chaotic family life and a solid education; he’d gotten into a good private school here, so I figured, well, I didn’t mind New York.”

 

Huh. Yuuri took his own sip of water, looking down. Did he move to the city just for his nephew? “So, did you live in LA before, or…?”

 

“I did,” Victor nodded, “And I still go there once a month for filming, but most of my life takes place here now.” He shrugged a shoulder and continued, “He needs to be with someone, you know?”

 

Oh. Yeah. Victor Nikiforov had just moved across the country to live with his nephew. Nothing big about that. It didn’t show anything about his personality, or how sweet and giving he was. _Fuck_. Not only was he great at sex (Yuuri assumed), he was a great person, too. “That’s… Really kind.”

 

“It’s been an adventure in its own right,” Victor winked right back, “Besides, he keeps my Russian sharp, and that never hurts.”

 

“It’s the same with me,” Yuuri admitted, “My secretary, Minami-- we’re both from Japan, and it’s nice to just have conversations in Japanese. Not that English isn’t nice, just-- just--”

 

“It’s nice to talk in your mother tongue,” Victor filled in with a smile.

 

“Exactly.”

 

“You’re from Japan, by the way? Which part?” Victor’s knees nudged against Yuuri’s under the table, and it took everything in him not to outwardly express his embarrassment-- Victor Nikiforov, right there in front of him.

 

“I’m from Hasetsu, in the Saga prefecture,” Yuuri offered, raising his voice at the end as if in question-- did he need to get more general than that?

 

“Uh huh, the Saga prefecture,” Victor nodded, crossing his arms. “No idea where that is.”

 

Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh-- “It’s in Kyushu, the island just south of the main land mass.”

 

“Oh,” Victor nodded, as if he knew exactly where Yuuri was talking about, “Kyushu.”

 

Yuuri bit back a smile. “It’s okay if you don’t know.”

 

“I’ll just check a map later,” Victor winked, for the second time during lunch, and good god was he charming.

 

“It’s a little town. Really not worth looking into,” Yuuri explained with a quick flap of his hand, before-- ah, lunch. “Thank you,” he said to the waiter with a nod, quickly taking a bite of his sandwich, and-- Mm. That was good. “This is delicious,” Yuuri noted, taking another bite and enjoying the little moments of quiet while they simply hunched forward and ate. It was a nice little silence, punctuated by Victor slurping at his pho. Yuuri bit back a smile just hearing it-- the little imperfect idiosyncrasies he had in person. It made him human, really.

 

“What’s the town like, by the way? Aside from little,” Victor asked, setting down his fork (Yuuri made no comment about the utensil), and resting his head in his hands. “I told you I’m curious about you-- and feel free to ask me whatever you like. I’m an open book.”

 

His town? “Well… Small, for one. It’s got one tourist attraction, its castle-- supposedly there was a whole squadron of ninjas who--”

 

“Ninjas?” Victor cut in with a grin, eyes wide. “That’s incredible!”

 

“Haha, well, if you ever go there, um…” Was Yuuri inviting his longtime pornographic idol to his hometown? Good god. “You know. If we’re both in town, I’ll show you around. Besides, my parents run a hotel with a nice hot spring, so it won’t be hard to find a good hotel.”

 

A flash of surprise crossed Victor’s face for just a moment, before he broke out into a smile that spread from ear to ear. “I may just take you up on that, sometime,” he grinned, running his finger around the lip of his glass of water. “What’s it like?”

 

Yuuri popped up, hand automatically reaching for his phone. “I’ve got some pictures of it somewhere on here,” he explained, unlocking it and opening up his photos app. “Just one second…” He scrolled for a good minute through memes and poodle pictures before finding a decent one of the hotel’s lobby. “This is from when I was leaving just after last new year; my family likes to take a picture of us all huddled in the foyer every time, and it’s kind of… Become a bit of a tradition,” he explained, pointing briefly at the small group of people standing in the middle of the shot. He handed Victor the phone, trusting him not to swipe through his gallery.

 

“Oh, this is adorable! And your family seems so sweet,” Victor gushed, immediately betraying Yuuri’s trust and swiping to the left in search of more, landing on a picture of Vicchan. “Oh my god,” he deadpanned, jaw dropping, and-- oh, shit, he didn’t see anything scandalous, did he? The one time (multiple times) he’d taken nudes of himself in a fit of confidence, and he-- “I have a poodle too! Oh my god,” he gushed, immediately grabbing his phone from his pocket, “You have to see Makkachin.” Victor only spent a good five seconds on his phone before pulling up a picture, and-- _too cute!_ He looked just like a bigger version of Vicchan, and Yuuri just wanted to pick him up and hold him in his arms. “He’s a standard café-au-lait and I love him.”

 

“Mine was too! He was a toy poodle, but he was so feisty!” Yuuri couldn’t count the number of times Vicchan had bitten through his clothes, played with dog loving guests, begged for food scraps from their table… “He was a good dog.”

 

“Well, a good person raised him,” Victor shot back, somehow turning a sweet moment about Yuuri’s dog into a personal compliment. Sneaky.

 

“My mom did most of the work-- I’d gotten him when I was maybe eleven-- but I’ll send the compliment along,” Yuuri smiled back, feeling… Nice. This was nice. He didn’t feel awkward, or pressured, or anything, really. Just a former client and him chatting over lunch. “What’s Makkachin like, then?”

 

There was a soft look in Victor’s eyes, and he slid his finger across his phone to show more pictures; selfies of himself and Makkachin, pictures of Makkachin jumping in the air, pictures of Makkachin chomping on a chew toy, a few images of Makkachin standing in the middle of a forest. “He’s handsome and doofy and I love him,” Victor explained quickly, “I like to try and take him on hikes on weekends-- get him out of the city for awhile to stretch his legs.”

 

“That sounds fantastic,” Yuuri replied, just a touch jealous: he liked the city, sure, but it could get claustrophobic at times. All the towering buildings, all the people hurrying along, all of the concrete and steel and glass… “You guys must have fun.”

 

“We do,” agreed Victor, smiling softly down at his phone, “It’s great to get away from the city every once in awhile, you know?”

 

“I know exactly what you mean-- I need to get out of town soon myself,” Yuuri agreed, polishing off his sandwich and taking a long sip from his glass. “Come to think of it, I have a few friends over in Boston I’ve been meaning to meet up with.”

 

“Oh, I _love_ Boston,” Victor answered quickly-- “It’s just the best mix of small town and big city.”

 

“Isn’t it?” Yuuri agreed, when he closed his phone and noticed-- oh, shit. The time. “Fuck-- I’ve got to be back at work in ten, um--”

 

Victor waved him off before Yuuri could start apologizing for the short notice. “I’ve got the bill. I believe I told you this was my treat?” Oh, god. Victor was too good for words.   
  
“You’re sure?” he asked, already standing up to find the nearest uptown subway. “I mean, I can--”

 

Something mischievous sparkled in Victor’s eyes as he answered, quick as a whip, “Mm, I could get your number as repayment. Just a thought.” He held out his phone as if for emphasis, opening his contacts app. “Just real quick?”

 

Yuuri bit his lip. This was… Maybe a little unprofessional, even if Victor was no longer his client. But when would he ever get this chance again? “Okay,” Yuuri answered with a shaky smile, plucking the phone from Victor’s hands and inputting his number. “Don’t get me fired, okay?”

 

Victor’s smile was wider, now. “Never.”

  


___

“Bitch, I want every single detail,” Phichit demanded, the moment Yuuri stepped into their apartment. “I want to know what he was wearing, I want to know what he said, what he did, his social security number-- whatever you can give me.”

 

It was hard not to laugh, especially when Phichit was trying to be intimidating while cuddling his hamsters. “It really wasn’t anything, Phi, we just talked--”

 

“About what? Life plans? Dating? Babe, I need _details._ This is my life blood right now, especially with my fucking marketing fetuses--” Wait. Hold the phone. Phichit was dealing with fetuses? He’d thought this was business, not medicine-- “The undergrads I’m TA’ing, Yuuri. They’re fetuses.”

 

“We were undergrads two years ago,” Yuuri, feeling just a tad defensive, pointed out.

 

“Yeah, but now we have jobs. Mine is corralling toddlers, and yours is accounting, and--” Phichit stopped, scowling at Yuuri as if he’d betrayed him, “Oh my god, Yuuri, don’t distract me from this. What happened?”

 

With a laugh, Yuuri did his best to explain, answering every single one of Phichit’s questions as if he were in an interrogation. He went over the specifics of what Victor had worn (Yuuri carefully omitted the part where Victor had accidentally whipped his dick out), over how he acted, over what _exactly_ he said-- “You’d be a phenomenal criminal investigator,” Yuuri admitted, exhausted from both work and the apparent interrogator that was his roommate.

 

“But you gave him your number.”

 

“I did,” Yuuri affirmed, finally beginning to run out of patience. “And I think I’m just about ready to stop talking about boys.”

 

Phichit squirmed in his seat for a good few seconds, before finally sighing and flopping back onto their couch. “If you get fucked by your favorite porn star, I will ascend to a higher plane of existence.”

 

“I’m pretty sure you’re gonna have to stay mortal, Phi,” Yuuri jokingly sympathized with a pat to Phichit’s arm. “But if I ever do, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

 

“Your asshole’ll never recover,” Phichit answered, deadpan and staring off into space, and Yuuri turned his pat into a smack.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally fully done with finals!!! This was admittedly a bit of a rush job, but I had so much fun figuring out the dialogue! You might be able to tell that Victor's interested already, and I've been thinking about doing the next chapter in his POV. What do you think? 
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading!


	5. How Fast, Again?

“Chill,” Chris repeated for the umpteenth time, snatching Victor’s phone away and setting it down on his desk. “Really, this isn’t a nuclear code, babe, you’re not, like, negotiating some sort of treaty. It’s a text.” 

 

Victor was curled up on Chris’s couch, lips pursed, thinking  _ hard  _ about what he wanted to say. ‘Hey, it’s Victor! Want me to suck your dick?’ was the first thing that came to mind, but this wasn’t just a hookup. “Since when was flirting this hard?” he whined, flopping back onto the couch with a sigh. 

 

“It’s always been hard, baby,” Chris cooed from his desk, clicking away at his computer and editing one of his videos. “You just haven’t had to bother with it to get laid.” 

 

Victor almost smiled at the jab, but he had better things to do than bitch about boys with Chris-- he had a shoot in half an hour, and he needed to try and manage  _ something _ before his subsequent four hour fuckfest. He bit his lip, thinking… ‘You said you wanted out of NYC for awhile-- want to go hiking with me?’ ‘We should meet for coffee sometime.’ ‘I want to hear you moan.’ 

 

That would be too much, too soon, especially given the way Katsuki had struggled at first to talk. No, Victor considered, this one was shy. He’d have to be careful about it, then. He could be subtle. He stole his phone back from Chris and began to type.

 

_ Hey! I had a lot of fun at lunch today-- want to do coffee sometime later this week? V _

 

There. Reasonably subtle, but it got the point across. Victor pocketed his cell and finally turned to Chris, satisfied. “I’m playing coy,” he explained with a grin, propping his legs up on a coffee table and waggling his eyebrows. He could flirt. 

 

“You’re not coy when you’re the one chasing him,” Chris shot back, not even looking up from his computer. Victor’s grin changed to a frown in a flash. 

 

“I’m not  _ that  _ obvious about it, then,” he corrected, tapping at his foundation for the umpteenth time with a paper blotter-- it was immaculate as always, but his hands needed something to do now that today’s main stressor had been dealt with. Chris only snorted in response, doing some last clicking before standing up from his desk and plopping down by Victor’s side. 

 

“You’re as a subtle as a trainwreck, Victor-- what’d you say?” Victor recited his text with a sniff, and, thankfully, received a quick nod of affirmation. “Not bad, grasshopper.” 

 

Victor only wriggled in his seat, checking his phone while he waited for the film crew to finish prepping the studio. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long-- Yuuri was quick in getting back to him. 

 

_ Hey! I can’t do Thursday-- I’m working through lunch-- but I should be free Friday around one?  _

 

“Imagine having to work eight hours a day,” Victor mused-- his agent and he planned his schedule every month, usually leading to him working… Maybe six hours in total per day, two of which were spent in makeup and waiting for crews to prep backdrops. And, sure, while there was one week per month he spent in LA, fucking until he could do so no more, it… Really wasn’t a bad tradeoff for work: he could spend time with his nephew and friends most weeks, invest in his hobbies. 

 

_ That’s perfect for me. We can go somewhere near your office, if you like. V _

 

Victor narrowed his eyes at his phone. Briefly weighed his options, before he typed out just one more message. 

 

_ And you’re more than welcome to join in on Makka’s and my weekend hike. V  _

 

There. He’d put everything on the table-- inviting a man out for a hike as a third date might have been a little fast, but Yuuri had mentioned wanting to get out of the city. Besides, he was being obvious enough about it; there was no way Yuuri could see his advances as anything less than flirtatious. Smirking at his phone, then, he pocketed it and turned to his co-conspirator. “We’re doing coffee on Friday.” 

 

“Try and avoid showing him your monster dick again,” Chris answered, quick as a whip, blowing a kiss Victor’s way. “The way he looked when you had it out the first time, I thought he’d faint then and there.” 

 

Victor reeled back, as if actually stung. “Rude,” he snapped back, no venom behind the gesture. “Besides, you were the one who had him dragged here. Did you really need to interview someone I’m interested in?” 

 

“Someone in whom you’re interested,” Chris corrected with a grin, and god  _ dammit,  _ was English the worst international language. Chris must have guessed Victor’s exasperation from his face, because he only continued, “No one else would fault you for it, hon. Most high-level grammar’s just a performative elitist construction meant to disadvantage non-white working class people, anyway.”

 

“No one’s forcing you to avoid grad school,” Victor quipped right back with a smirk-- really, how often did Chris have to get philosophical on him? Or… socio-linguistically Marxist, or  _ whatever _ . Victor decided it was best to avoid labeling Chris’s politicized brand of intellectual bullshit.

 

Chris capitulated almost immediately, tipping his head back with a groan, “But porn is so  _ fun!  _ And I can’t juggle a job and grad school, babe, we’ve been  _ over this _ .”  

 

Victor could sense his friend avoiding the subject. “So why did you feel the need to interview Mister Katsuki?” He could tell he hit the nail on the head, because Chris lifted his head up with a deep-set frown. 

 

“...I mean…” Chris started, looking off into the distance as if those two words explained everything. 

 

“Go on.” 

 

Chris, looking at Victor through his eyelashes, explained slowly, “I just don’t want another Alexei. Or a Henry. Or an Ahmad, or a Qiao Qiu, or an Octavius.” 

 

“I mean, those were--” 

 

“People trying to use you for your relative fame and your big dick,” Chris interrupted, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. “You could tell they were after those parts of you from a mile away, is all, and… I don’t know. I don’t want to see you three weeks later drunk at my place, bitching about how shallow he is. You tend to run a little fast, hon.” 

 

Victor looked down at his knees. Yes, Chris had overstepped, but then again, Victor had gotten a date out of it. Besides, Chris was honest about these things. “What’d you think of him?” 

 

Thankfully, this forced a smile out of Christophe: he only barely bit it back as he explained, “I’m not entirely sure he knows what a penis  _ is _ .” 

 

No.  _ No.  _ Victor was aghast at the thought-- “You don’t seriously think he’s straight?” 

 

“I didn’t say that,” Chris cut in, finally explaining himself-- “I just think he was the biggest virgin to step inside of a porn studio.” 

 

That shut Victor right up. 

 

___

 

Chris had always made assumptions. Sure, he was right about most of them, but they were assumptions nonetheless. And if Yuuri had never been intimate… Well, it was possible, sure. Everyone had their own individual experiences, and if Yuuri had been a little late to the game, that was perfectly fine. It didn’t make them any worse of a match-- Victor had more experience; he was a strong advocate of informed, dynamic, and enthusiastic consent. He could coax Yuuri through the steps, if they wanted. 

 

...He was getting ahead of himself. No, he decided, now all he had to do was look immaculate. Just a touch of concealer for those dark circles, a bit of styling product to sweep his hair into a nice curve at his forehead, his favorite tight jeans (black, lest his bulge be evident to everyone walking by), a nice lavender button down. A  _ touch  _ of his favorite Givenchy cologne. He was immaculate, sunglasses perched delicately on his nose, sweater on his arm-- he looked good, and he knew it. He gave himself one last look in the mirror, over-the-shoulder so he could get a good peek at his backside-- and beelined to his phone, ready to text Yuuri that he was on his way over. 

 

When he saw that Yuuri had messaged him first, some thirty minutes ago. 

 

_ Hey! I am so, so, SO sorry-- I can’t make it today! I stayed late last night trying to finish up some work for my client, but it’s just spiraled into this whole money syphoning mess I have to clean up. Anyway, can we still do this weekend?  _

 

…Ah. Well. 

 

That was fine. Yuuri was still on for the weekend. He could bring coffee, it would be fine. He turned to the nearest mirror and inspected himself: his look was immaculate, carefully curated to impress. So he would have to hammer out plans a little better-- at least it would be the weekend. 

 

_ Hey, just got this-- don’t worry about it, Yuuri, I’m sure you’re swamped. I understand. That said, I like to be out of the city by around ten, so… I can pick you up at around 8:30 on Saturday? And I can bring coffee and breakfast, lol V _

 

Thankfully, the response was almost immediate: 

 

_ That sounds really nice! Yeah, I can be ready by then, but I might not be entirely awake before I have my first coffee, haha _

 

Victor, as subtle as a train wreck, bit his lip and carefully typed out his answer: 

 

_ I don’t mind seeing your bedhead, don’t you worry. ;) V _

 

If that didn’t get the point across, he didn’t know what would. Content with his flirtation (he screenshotted his conversation and sent it to Chris with a thumbs-up emoji for emotional support), he… Supposed he could still get coffee. It wouldn’t be half as fun without the anticipation of a date, but he had a good few hours until his next shoot-- no point in just waiting around. 

 

Thankfully, Yuuri responded only a few minutes later-- 

 

_ Haha, you’re sweet. I’ll see you then. :)  _

 

Listed just below was Yuuri’s address, smack in the middle of Williamsburg. Victor pocketed his phone, running a hand through his hair and finally walking out of his apartment. He was  _ sweet _ . 

 

___

 

Makkachin was not a morning dog, that much was certain. Getting him fed, walked, and into the car by 7:30 was a miracle in and of itself; seeing him wait through an hour of traffic into Williamsburg without whining had to be a gift from god. Victor had been awake since five, poring through his workout clothes, finding  _ just  _ the right outfit: something that said that he was single and interested, but not desperate. Something tight on the bottom; something that made his legs and ass look good without his dick poking through. 

 

He decided on his favorite black bike shorts, paired with a nice t-shirt-- and he looked good. Casual and sporty, as if he weren’t meticulously going through his wardrobe for the perfect date outfit. Unfortunately, he found, readying himself and Makka-- and sneaking out without waking up his nephew-- was the easiest part.

 

The drive itself was excruciating. Makkachin pawed every once in awhile at the back of his seat; the cooler with coffee and breakfast lurched forward not once, but  _ twice _ when he had to slam the brakes. He drummed his fingers over the steering wheel, took a deep breath, and gathered himself: Manhattan traffic would not ruin his day. And if he was five minutes late, well--  _ fine _ . He texted Yuuri a quick apology after narrowly finding a parking spot (near the building, no less!) and waited, scrolling through his personal instagram and ignoring the daily barrage of DMs. No, he decided, snapping a quick picture of Makkachin in the back of the car-- today was going to be good. They were going to have fun. Victor had just chosen the perfect filter when he heard a knock on the door. 

 

And there Yuuri Katsuki stood, smilingly waving through the window, innocent as could be. Victor scrambled to the passenger seat and opened the door for him, realizing just as he pulled himself back to his seat that he could have been a little more smooth about the whole ordeal. “Hey,” Yuuri smiled, moving Victor’s cooler to the floor and-- pulling a small cooler of his own onto his lap. “I brought lunch, if that’s okay-- my mom sent me one of my favorite recipes from home a few days ago, and, uh, I wanted to try it out…” Yuuri looked down, shoulders almost-- shimmying back and forth as he fiddled with his thumbs. 

 

Had Yuuri  _ made  _ lunch? Victor had just bought something from his favorite cafe down the street, but-- but. Something in Victor short-circuited. Yuuri Katsuki was almost too adorable, glancing up at him from behind his glasses, hunched shyly forward as if he expected to be kicked out of the car. Oh, god. Victor hadn’t even said anything. “That-- that’s perfect, actually,” he answered slowly, sitting straighter in his seat and trying to keep back a smile. The drive through Manhattan was nothing compared to this new high-- especially when Yuuri turned to the back seat and rubbed at Makka’s ears, cooing at what a beautiful dog he was. This continued for a good minute or two, Makkachin and Yuuri getting acquainted, Makkachin doing his damnedest to crawl into his usual spot in the front seat-- “Sorry, he usually sits up front,” Victor explained, gently pushing his dog back into his dog bed in the back. “I could put a whole pile of toys there, and he’ll still think he gets the passenger’s seat.” 

 

Thankfully, Yuuri was understanding, assuring Makka that he was welcome up front after breakfast, and-- and, oh, god, Victor’s toes curled at how cute he was. No one else up until Yuuri had even bothered with Victor’s dog. 

 

“Oh, and, um. So--” Yuuri rubbed his hand along his neck, glancing out the window, “So my roommate’s a little protective, uh. He just, um, wanted me to take some selfies during the hike so he knows I’m okay. You-- you know, uh, going to a deserted place with a relative stranger, it’s, um--” 

 

“A little suspicious,” Victor finished, the knowledge of his invitation being construed as possibly murderous finally dawning on him. Oh, god, he should have stuck with coffee. 

 

“Don’t worry, I think you’re pretty nice as it is-- Phichit’s the one who wants to know I’m okay,” Yuuri smiled, giving Victor a quick pat on the shoulder before pulling back. “Um…” 

 

“I don’t intend on murdering you, if it helps,” Victor joked, adding, “You know, if something happens on accident, though…” He was implying that he would kill his date, and Victor Nikiforov had never felt less charming in his life. 

 

“You’re not liable, don’t worry,” Yuuri laughed, smiling up at him-- “Just don’t leave me to rot, and we’re fine.” 

 

Victor couldn’t help but snort-- not only at the dark humor, but at Yuuri’s quick save. “I’ll do my best,” he shot back, turning the key in the ignition and carefully extricating himself from his parallel park. 

 

“Nice,” Yuuri mentioned with a nod at Victor’s driving, before reaching down and pulling up Victor’s cooler. “Do you mind if I…?” 

 

“No, go ahead-- that’s what it’s for,” Victor answered, smiling even as his eyes were on the road. It had been a rocky start, paired perfectly with bad timing, but-- this was alright. Everything was alright. 

 

And they drove off-- into more traffic. “This was inevitable,” Yuuri observed, reaching back to pet Makkachin, “And someone’s awfully patient.” He finally opened his thermos of coffee and took a sip, squeezing his eyes shut-- “Do you have any sugar?” 

 

Oh. Oh, no, he had a sweet tooth. It shouldn’t have been endearing, and yet Victor couldn’t hold back a smile as he kept his eyes on the road. “I don’t, I’m sorry-- I didn’t know--”

 

“That’s okay,” Yuuri answered back, taking a sip and closing his eyes. “A few friends gave me shit for this all the time back in college-- apparently I didn’t ‘enjoy the natural flavors.’” 

 

“And sugar isn’t natural?” Victor grinned back, taking a slow turn onto the nearest highway. 

 

“It’s hard to argue with someone when they have their head up their own ass,” Yuuri shot back, before seemingly crumpling into himself. “Oh-- oh, god, I didn’t mean it that way,” he backpedaled, continuing, “I mean-- only with coffee. And a few other things. They’re good people.” 

 

Victor’s smile didn’t even waver. “Do you remember Chris? At the studio?” he began, glancing Yuuri’s way. Yuuri only nodded, taking another sip of his coffee and reaching back to pet Makka. 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“He’s the same way, except with sex toys.” Victor had only barely finished his thought when he heard Yuuri choke on his coffee. Ah-- shit, most people didn’t talk about sex toys in casual conversation. 

 

Thankfully Yuuri recovered quickly: “What’s there to be pretentious about with sex toys?” Glancing in his date’s direction, Victor saw Yuuri looking-- well, a little shocked, maybe a little scandalized, but-- curious. Victor only barely hesitated to explain. 

 

“You know how some people have a brand loyalty to-- I don’t know, clothes? Cars?” 

 

“Sure. There’s a restaurant in my neighbor--” he paused, shrinking into his seat. “Sorry, um. Go on.” 

 

Oh? A restaurant? Victor could table that for later, if today went well. “He has the same thing with sex toys-- if you criticize anything his favorite brand makes, you’re done for.” 

 

Yuuri was quick to laugh, holding his coffee close to his lips. “That’s-- well, I guess I’ll have to ask for recommendations, then.” 

 

They lapsed into a silence just long enough for Yuuri to set his coffee aside and pet Victor’s dog, cooing at his ‘pretty long ears.’ When he turned back, he did so with a sigh, leaning back in his seat and smiling, “I can’t tell you how nice it is to get out of the city for awhile.” 

 

Victor glanced into the rearview mirror, catching Makkachin resting his head on the shoulder of the passenger’s seat. “So am I-- and so is Makka, by the looks of it. He’s a little big for the city, but I couldn’t just leave him in LA…” 

 

“ _ Oh _ , okay,” Yuuri answered, as if having run smack into an epiphany. Victor hummed inquisitively, and his date continued, “Well. I mean-- you know, I guess, um, bigger dogs need-- more space than the city can usually give, you know?” 

 

Ahh, right. “It’s part of why I’m trying to get back to California, come to think of it,” Victor explained, “I spend a week out of every month there as it is, and I just-- New York is nice, but…” It was hard to put into words. It was suffocating, busy--

 

“I feel the same way. I mean, I told you about Hasetsu-- it’s so much more spacious. Everyone knew each other…” he trailed off, looking forward. Victor waited for him to continue, occasionally glancing his passenger’s way. “I’m not quite homesick, I just… Kind of miss knowing everyone. There, I could walk outside, and someone might call out to me, but here, it’s… I don’t know. A little isolating?” 

 

Victor nodded, taking a slow turn. “Everyone’s so busy-- it’s hard to get together with anyone.” 

 

“ _ Exactly _ !” Yuuri piped up, hands beginning to gesticulate, “And half the time I’m sure I’m only so close with Phi because we live together, and it just-- “ he deflated, staring down at his lap. “it kind of sucks.” They sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound surrounding them the hum of the engine. “S-sorry,” Yuuri began-- “I shouldn’t just-- talk about myself, mope around... How about you? You said you speak Russian, um.” Yuuri looked down and around, as if searching for more to say, “Are you from there, like I’m from Japan, or…?” 

 

Oh.  _ Oh _ . “I grew up in Saint Petersburg, actually,” Victor explained with the shrug of a shoulder, “My family wanted me to take up business law, I chose something more entertaining--” he flashed a grin Yuuri’s way, raising his eyebrows conspiratorially to keep the mood light, “And eventually came to LA. I already knew conversational English, but…” 

 

“But it’s so hard dealing with native speakers,” Yuuri nodded-- “I understand the feeling. Sometimes I’ll try and explain something with a word in Japanese, and it just doesn’t translate right.” 

 

“Right?” Victor grinned, fingers drumming on the wheel-- sure, he was friends with plenty of fellow foreigners, but actually discussing cultural assimilation difficulties rather than silently acknowledging it was… It was nice. It was nice, talking about the lonely little aspects of their lives, just as nice as it was chatting away about puppies. 

 

And they did. They talked and chatted-- and even ate in companionable silence, pausing their drive by the side of the road to let Makkachin out-- until they arrived at Franny Reese State Park.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It begins! I like to think that Victor takes things a little quickly at first, and I'm hoping it shows-- anywho, I'm hoping you guys enjoy this chapter! I'm really, really excited to ramp up to the actual relationship: I have so much planned for them in the future!


	6. Getting To Know You

It wouldn’t do to get his hopes up. To assume that Victor ( _ the  _ Victor) was interested in anything other than friendship and a possible reduction in price of Yuuri’s accounting services. But there Yuuri was, unable to fall asleep in the comfort of his bed, shimmying at the very thought of Victor ( _ the  _ Victor) sweeping him off his feet and fucking him until he saw stars. 

 

_ Shit _ . No, no, this was-- inappropriate at best and unprofessional at worst. Sure, Yuuri had seen Victor’s penis, even once in real life, but… Yuuri sighed. He needed to get this out of his head. He could be attracted to a man without having certain, well,  _ expectations-- _ right? Besides, Yuuri didn’t even know him. He knew the articles, the theatricality, the performances, but it didn’t take a genius to recognize that that didn’t count as familiarity so much as-- objectification. 

 

Oh, god. Was Yuuri objectifying him? Sure, he’d seen Victor’s penis, but-- he had masturbated to the thought of him so many times.  _ So many times _ . He even had his Victor Cock Replica tucked away in the back of his nightstand, taunting him with its impossible girth. Yuuri sighed, covering his face with his hands. This was wrong. He was-- he was-- he was being disrespectful, just because the man was a sex worker. 

 

He just needed to get this tension out of his system, was all. At least, before their hike tomorrow. 

 

Quietly, noting that the lights in the living room were off and that Phi had to be asleep, Yuuri crawled to his little nightstand and pulled out his favorite plug. Just something to put the edge off, really-- no challenging himself tonight. He’d hike that Mount Everest on an evening when he had the time for it. No, tonight he’d just let off some steam. Carefully, Yuuri pulled out his bottle of lubricant, pouring out a dollop onto his fingers, and reaching back. Just so he wouldn’t be too-- too uncomfortable, tomorrow. Just to indulge a little. Just enough to push his hopes back down. 

 

Yuuri slipped one finger inside of himself with the practiced ease of a professional. He spread his legs, lifting one into the air as he laid on his side, squeezing his eyes shut and ignoring the way his prick went from soft to hard within seconds. A part of him felt, well… Almost built for this. Built to be taken, used, almost like a human toy. 

 

That did it for him. Yuuri pressed in two fingers, now, rocking his hips back into them and closing his eyes. Yes. Something to be-- oh, god. Something to be taken. He was useful, in his own filthy little way. Victor would take him, wouldn’t even have to prepare him; no, Yuuri was made for this, for taking something inside of him, for bringing someone else pleasure… 

 

He heard himself moan. Soft, barely audible, but there. Yuuri paused, lifted his head, listening for Phichit to stir, or wake up, or anything. He stayed there for a few seconds, listening for any change… No. He was safe. For now, at least. 

 

It wasn’t hard to fall back into the fantasy. To close his eyes and imagine Victor, grappling him, maneuvering Yuuri as he liked, taking his pleasure with as much gentleness or brutality as he saw fit. “Oh, fuck,” he whispered, quiet as could be-- he wanted it. He wanted it so badly. 

 

Yuuri slid his third finger in. He wanted to be brutalized. He wanted to be stretched to and past his breaking point, ruined beyond repair. He could almost imagine someone walking into his room, seeing him spread wide, so unbelievable  _ wide _ , on his elbows and knees, taking, taking, sobbing and begging for more-- pathetic and desperate and  _ ruined _ …

 

Oh, fuck. His fingers weren’t going to do it tonight-- no, he needed more. He needed something bigger. Almost frantically, he crawled back to his nightstand, poring through it, scattering his little collection of plugs and vibrators, looking for-- ah. There is was. 

 

Pink and no shorter than eight inches long, there sat his current favorite dildo. It was nothing to Victor’s, but it would do. 

  
  


___

  
  


The river was beautiful. The weather was lovely, perfectly cool and not too humid; Makkachin chased leaves, scrambled around the trail, sniffling every single rock. And Victor, well… Yuuri had to keep himself from staring: his smile was radiant, his eyes glittered, his hair swayed with every step. Yuuri was lucky to just to walk with him. “He’s great off a leash, but the moment you put him on one, he thinks it’s his one opportunity to explore,” Victor explained, tugging at his dog’s leash for the umpteenth time. “Come on, boy!” he called, biting back an exasperated smile; Yuuri bit back one of his own, more prompted by nostalgia from his Vicchan days. 

 

“My dog did the same thing. Granted, he was never good enough to be off-leash, but, well-- he had fun?” 

 

“That’s what matters!” Victor laughed, finally giving into Makka’s curiosity and stopping at the side of the trail. “He, uh… He’s a stubborn boy.” 

 

“A good stubborn boy,” Yuuri affirmed with a smile; Victor looked at him and grinned right back, with the same exact dimples he’d seen dozens of times on his computer screen. “Um,” he started-- was it alright to ask? Would it be rude? “How did you, uh… Get your start in film?” he posed delicately, following it up with a quick, “That is, you don’t have to tell me if it’s, um, personal.” 

“Oh,” Victor began, brows raising. “Well, it’s not all that inter--” he paused, gave himself a moment to think. He continued with a wink, “It’s actually a pretty good story, who am I kidding.” Yuuri couldn’t help a laugh at that as Victor seemed to launch into the gritty details: “I told you I grew up in St. Petersburg, right?” 

 

“Uh huh,” Yuuri nodded. 

 

“Well, you could call my childhood, um, unconventional… I was, sort of-- my family was a little rich, right?” 

 

Oh. That constituted unconventional? “Alright, yeah,” Yuuri nodded again, walking forward as Makka finally grew bored of his sniffing spot. “And?” 

 

“Well, my family had expectations for me-- as all families do. Yours expected you to be an accountant, right?” 

 

Yuuri paused. Turned to Victor, brows knit together. “Well, no. I decided that on my own, actually-- there were a few months as a kid where my family’s hotel wasn’t doing well, and, you know-- I didn’t want that to happen again.” 

 

A flash of shock crossed Victor’s face. He blinked, rubbing at his neck, and offered a quick apology. “That was assumptive, sorry.” 

 

“No, no, it’s fine-- anyway, expectations?” 

 

“Yeah. Yeah, expectations,” Victor continued, looking forward. “Well, I was expected to be a lawyer with a background in business, maybe to get an MBA while I was at it-- just to, you know, help at the family business. Get some cushy VP job that would have me set for life, marry some woman my father chose for me, all that.” 

 

Yuuri couldn’t hide his surprise. That image, compared with the man he was standing next to right then and there was… Well. It really  _ was  _ an interesting story. “Go on.” 

 

“It’s different from what you’d think, right?” Victor grinned, before lurching forward as Makkachin chased after some new source of entertainment. “Makka!” he shouted, finally regaining composure and control of his dog. “I, uh-- anyway, the pressure was, well, a lot, and with my parents’ permission I took a bit of a gap year. Explored the world--” he paused, smirking into space, “well, I explored hostels in Europe. There was more drinking and sex with Americans than there was actual cultural exploration, but it was a good time.” 

 

Yuuri bit his lip, remembering his own time between high school and college: frantically reading his English textbooks, watching American television and squinting his eyes as he focused on the language ( _ Gilmore Girls  _ was the worst)... Compared to Victor’s life, it sounded so boring. “That sounds like a lot of fun,” Yuuri commented, honestly. 

 

“It was-- I mean. For awhile.” That was fair, Yuuri thought. “You can only party for so long before it gets repetitive, and I partied for the better part of an entire year. By the end of it I felt like shit, I looked like shit, and I just… Wanted some sort of normalcy, you know?” 

 

Oh. Well. Yuuri hadn’t imagined a downside. “That makes sense,” he agreed, trying to imagine Victor as rundown as he had described himself. It was hard to picture. 

 

“Anyway, I went back home, right? And everything was so… Different. I mean, the pressure, the expectations-- it had all been normal to me before I left. And coming back, it was like-- like--” Victor stared into the distance, focusing on some spot Yuuri was sure he couldn’t see. “I didn’t expect it to be so suffocating.”  _ Suffocating _ . That was a strong word. Yuuri stared down at Makkachin and listened, waiting on Victor’s next words. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a downer, there. Anyway-- I was partying on the side, made some new friends outside of my old social circle, and one of them-- well, I slept with them at the time, like a friends with benefits sort of thing-- one of them wanted to make a sex tape, for fun.” 

 

That wasn’t a good sign-- it wasn’t-- it wasn’t released or something, was it? “And then what happened?” 

 

Victor laughed, surely finding the concern in Yuuri’s voice. “Nothing bad, trust me. We had a great time-- I had a great time in particular. I was really interested in-- you know how people act when they know they’re being watched? It’s so much more interesting in an intimate setting, really.” Victor smiled, winked at Yuuri, and continued, “And from there, I loved it-- there was so much to it that I hadn’t expected, that I loved. The theatricality of it, for one. I wanted to do more, to explore more people in that sort of way, and, well… It evolved into a whole career. Before I knew it my agent was recommending that I move to LA, and… Well, with the addition of my nephew and the move to New York, here we are.” 

 

Yuuri stared at Victor a little longer than was appropriate, just… Taking in the person he was. So that was why. The motivation behind the man. The man himself-- he was so much more than just a series of pixels on screen. He was thoughtful, he was sweet… Every time Yuuri was near him, he learned more about him. About sex work, about Makkachin, about his life. “That’s really cool,” he admitted quietly. That wasn’t quite the word for it, but-- “Not  _ cool _ , I mean--” 

 

Victor was smiling at him. “I get what you mean,” he answered, staring at Yuuri through his eyelashes in a way that-- well. All he could do was blush. “What was your rebellious phase, then?” 

 

Him? Rebellious? Yuuri looked down, blush deepening for a different reason entirely. “I never… I mean. I went drinking with friends sometimes in college?” he tried, unable to make eye contact. He had never really done anything particularly bad, come to think of it. He worked hard, he enjoyed his time at home, he played video games and watched bad TV with his roommate-- sometimes went out to dinner when they wanted to splurge… “I guess I’m just a really boring person, haha,” he admitted, cracking a miserable little smile. He really  _ was  _ that boring, wasn’t he? 

 

“What? No!” Victor reassured him, patting Yuuri’s shoulder with one hand and delicately tipping his chin up with the other. Oh, um. Yuuri blinked, looking into Victor’s eyes. When did they get this close? “You’re not boring at all. I think that’s wonderful. You have things you like to do, foods you like to eat-- that’s, um.” They both went quiet. All they could hear was the light chirping of birds; the honking of faraway traffic. Victor’s face was awfully close to his. His eyes were so blue, so pretty-- especially this up close. “That’s really nice,” Victor finished off, voice soft. 

 

His hobbies. “Oh, thanks,” Yuuri smiled, pulling back and taking a moment to pet Makkachin. “I, um, like to think they’re fun. Have you gotten your nephew Breath of the Wild yet?” 

 

Onto better topics, Yuuri thought, until Victor pulled a face. “Well…” Oh. Shit. Had he said something wrong? “He’s kind of grounded, at the moment.” 

 

“What happened?” Yuuri asked immediately, before following it up with a quick, “If you don’t mind me asking. We don’t have to talk about it. You know.” 

 

“I do know, thanks,” Victor smiled, before continuing, “It’s not-- he’s just a little shit sometimes. I get being an angsty teenager, but he’s sort of been venting it in… Not-good ways?” He sighed, looking down at Makkachin. “I mean-- I know I’m not his parent, and I’m just sort of taking care of him while he’s studying here, but… I just want to do more about it? He must miss his mom, after all, not to mention home. It’s just, uh, a bit of a mess right now.” 

 

“Uh-- what did he do, then? To get him grounded.” 

 

“Oh!” Victor laughed, “Sorry, got a little off track, there.” They kept walking as he explained, “He, um. Kicked a kid?” 

 

Yuuri blinked. Kicked? As in, foot-body contact? “Like…?” Yuuri mimicked a side kick his sister had had taught him back when she had taken Tae Kwon Do. 

 

“No, uh-- he wasn’t quite as graceful, really, he just… Wanted this other kid’s attention. So he…” Victor sighed. “Just because this other kid had his back to him. He was suspended, and now I have to go to the school on Monday to make an ‘Action Plan,’ whatever that is, and--” He ran a hand through his hair and looked at Yuuri with an apologetic expression on his face. “I guess I’m just a little overwhelmed with it, I guess. Sorry.” 

 

“No, no, I, um.” There was no way he could possibly  _ understand _ , really, but he could at least empathize. “That sounds tough.” 

 

“Sorry-- this is supposed to be a nice day, and all--” Victor tried, until Yuuri had the sense to stop him. 

 

“No, this is a nice day. And sometimes you need to talk about things. I get it.” He paused, looked at the trail, and laughed, “At least, that’s what my roommate tells me.” 

 

Victor laughed, thankfully, and the continued on. “I guess it just feels like being a dad and an uncle at the same time? It’s a little weird.” 

 

Whew. That sounded like a lot. “I can imagine. But… I mean, hopefully he’s learning from this?” 

 

“Maybe,” Victor nodded, staring off into space with a frown. He seemed to perk up again, though, turning to Yuuri, “Well, I’ll just call it a rebellious phase for now.” 

 

Yuuri laughed. “He’ll have something to talk about as an adult.” 

 

“What? Like you don’t, Mister Accountant?” Almost instantly, Victor bit his lip and looked down, holding back a laugh. Yuuri mirrored the look-- an accountant,  _ interesting _ ? 

 

With a giggle, he answered, “Ooh, you wanna talk investments and savings accounts?” 

 

“With you? All day.” Oh. Oh, goodness. For the umpteenth time that day, Yuuri blushed-- this time, he bumped his hiking partner on the shoulder with his own, settling into a companionable silence. 

 

To think that Yuuri had masturbated to the thought of Victor last night. The porn star, the myth, the legend-- and to think that here he was today, talking about, well. Life. Real life. Victor was so  _ different  _ from what Yuuri had expected-- at least, what he had imagined in his fantasies. The real Victor was so thoughtful, so patient, so  _ human _ . 

 

It was nice. To think that Victor had problems just like everybody else. Not that problems were good, just that… He wasn’t some infallible superhuman, really. Yuuri turned to Victor, who walked along the trail with him; who guided Makkachin away from trash. It was just… Nice. 

 

It was then that he remembered to take a selfie for Phichit. Lifting his phone, he snapped a quick picture of himself-- and noticed a grinning hiker in the background. “Oh-- Victor!” he admonished with a smile, flashing a pleasant little glare as he sent the picture to his roommate. “Done-- just so you know, if you really plan on killing me, the evidence is all there.” 

 

Victor only smiled, waggled his eyebrows, and said, “Damn. I guess I’ll have to wait until next time.” 

 

Yuuri couldn’t help but bark out a little laugh, before lapsing back into silence. To think-- the real-life Victor, living and breathing and… Real. “I have a question,” Yuuri blurted, before he could stop himself. The regret was quick to rush in as soon he verbalized that thought. 

 

“I probably have an answer,” Victor replied, turning Yuuri’s way and waiting. 

 

Oh. Oh, god. He was stepping into uncharted, possibly dangerous territory just by asking, but… How could Victor be so normal, like this? Especially knowing that-- “So. You knew that I was a, um. A fan, the moment we met, right?” 

 

“I did, yes,” Victor answered, not skipping a beat. How was this not awkward for him? 

 

Okay. Well. Yuuri gulped, forging on, “And that’s… I mean. That’s not a problem? I just-- want to know, I guess. I don’t--” god, he was rambling again, and he couldn’t darned help himself-- “I don’t want to be, um. Disrespectful? Especially if we’re, you know, being friends.” He had imagined Victor on him, inside him, doing filthy, awful, horrible things to him for literal  _ years _ , and to know him now, his mind a whole bank of fantasies not unlike an archeological dig through young adulthood-- how was that okay? “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I guess.” He paused, bit his lips together, and finally bit the bullet: “Are you?” 

 

“Oh.” Victor seemed surprised. Oh, god, Yuuri had misstepped. He’d gone and stepped on a landmine. Yuuri flailed, already taking a breath to explain that it was okay, that he didn’t need to answer if it was too intimate a question; but then, Victor had to open his mouth. “It’s all fine to me, I guess,” he said, as if in thought. “I mean-- in this line of work it’s not uncommon for people to just… Think of you that way?” He shrugged, “All in all, you’re more respectful about it than most. Really, Yuuri, nothing to worry about.” Gulping, Yuuri felt a pat on his shoulder. Victor, touching him-- it felt a lot more comforting and a lot less intimidating than Yuuri had imagined. “Okay?” 

 

It took a moment for Yuuri to find his voice. “Okay.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we are! I'm really excited to get the progression of this story going; I have a lot more relationship-y stuff planned out, and I am so excited to share it with all of you! 
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading!


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